Planescape, Memories of the last incarnation
by Jalein
Summary: This is a continuation of the popular game, Planescape Torment. It continues the story after the seperation of the Nameles one and his companions. There is a few assumed things, the biggest being the Nameles one is a good mage, please enjoy and review.
1. Chapter 1

_**Memories of the last Incarnation**_

All things live, and all things die. Many can hold off the fates for a time, but everything must, and will, perish. When mortality is stripped from a person like a cloak, one can live thousands of lifetimes and then never die, yet always lose themselves again and again. This was the fate of a creature known only as the Nameless one, for he lost himself for countless lives. Every death, every time he fell, his mind weakened, fractured, broke a little more, and when the mind couldn't take anymore, he would shatter, his mind piecing itself back together again and again, glued together like shattered glass, never the same twice and always lacking what defined him, his memories.

He suffered final death, or should it be said he achieved true life, only by traveling to the fortress of regrets, a plane of existence compromised of shadows and darkness, where the living can feel their very soul bleed out from their wounds and cuts. It is here where the shadows themselves are given life, and with this newly risen existence, seek death, death to any who would mock them with beating hearts and running blood.

Here, the nameless one reunited with his stripped away mortality and finally become whole, but much were the sins and evils of his previous lives. No sooner did he rise then he was spirited away to the lower hells to fight a never ending war of evil versus evil, the blood war. His tale doesn't end there, but takes on a new beginning, a new purpose as even in the foulest pits of hell, he lives and fights.

Seeking to rejoin him are his companions, the fiendling Annah, the Skull Morte, The Modron Nordom, and the Succubus Fall-From-Grace. Lost, feeling forgotten, they search for him, attempt to reunite with their former leader, and long for him in their own unique ways, be it friendship, loyalty, or even love. This is a tale of the last incarnation.

*************

Sitting atop the blood red rocks of the ashen plains, he chewed in his mouth the morsel of dried jerky. It was a rare treat in the hells for him to enjoy, even if it did come from the flesh of his fellow men, but he forced himself to savor it none the less. He was tired, hungry, and hurt in more ways than one, and yet…he couldn't stop his smiling. It had only been a week since his arrival in the hells, or what felt like a week, he had no way of actually knowing with the fires blazing all around him and never a moment of darkness in this plane to signify the changing of days. He had regained his memories and everything that made him unique, even his own name, and though he couldn't sort through all the memories of every incarnation he ever was, he still remained himself.

"Yo, Adahn, we got more work soon. You finished with that readin yet?" The voice of Caberus called to him, a giant of a man with muscles enough for six. Even though he now knew his true name, he knew better than to share it with the rest of the planes. There was power in such a thing as a name, and he wouldn't let someone ever have that kind of control over him again. He decided that Adahn would be enough for the world.

"Yes Caberus, I have. I'm merely enjoying what's left of our fallen comrades now so that we may survive another day to do the same for those after us" he spoke, a sad and sarcastic smile on his face. Caberus gave a hearty laugh and patted him on the shoulders warmly. Normally Adahn would never trust any man that was with him in this hellish prison, but Caberus was smart. He knew that his chances of survival were far greater with Adahn's magic at its peak, with his ability to cast spells to break apart the demons with magic, bolster their own men's bodies to swing harder, and even to armor them from all but the most lethal of blows from other demons. Caberus wasn't a good man, but he was a smart man, and he knew as long as he was with Adahn, he would live through most any battle.

"Ya know what your problem is? Ya too soft here. How a guy like ya got sent ta the hells will forever remain a mystery ta me" he spoke, slurring almost every word, almost intentionally.

"The planes work in many mysterious ways my friend. Where are we to do battle for next? Someplace with an ice box filled with some refreshing drinks not made from our friends would be a pleasant change" Adahn spoke sarcastically, causing the big man to laugh again.

"Nah, we be beatin some Tanarii arse at Ptreola, home ta the wondrous invention of the skin paintings. Who knows, if ya die out there, I could make some decent jink off that scarred hide of yours" he spoke with a wide smile. Adahn knew what he really meant when he said skin paintings. The Baatezu were renowned for their cold and methodical cruelty, so they would take still living humans and carve scars along their bodies, forcing screams to echo throughout their twisted cities and landscapes. Sometimes they would craft scenes of battles or proclamations on the skins of the men they tortured, many other times it was just to cause the most pain they could to the person to see how far they could go without killing them, and many of the devils would see it as a thing of immense beauty.

"Well, I'll just hope that you cover me long enough to make sure that doesn't happen. Remember, if I die, you lose my magical support" he said, half joking, half threatening. The intent wasn't lost on Caberus as he rubbed his side, the side where one of the Tanarri bit him with the force of a lion. If it weren't for Adahn's spells, the bite would have gone completely through him and severed the man in half and allowed him to watch his entrails spill onto the field. Caberus didn't forget, and likely never would.

"Well, no sense in standing about. Let's get ta the mid parts of the legion before we get stuck in the back or front" he said, helping Adahn up and allowing themselves to travel the short distance back to the legion, or as the Baatezu commander they were under called it "Geszsrta", or in his tongue, "The meat grinder". Sighing to himself, Adahn, pocketed his journal and spellbook in one of the few pouches he had on his belt as he shifted uncomfortably in the stiffened hide of some creature he was forced to wear for protection. If it were his choice, he would have kept the attire he always wore, but Caberus convinced him it would be better to wear some armor or at least some clothes to protect him should an arrow or two happen to catch him the wrong way. No sooner did they arrive at the middle most part of the legion it started to move, many men groaning and many more demon task masters cracking whips to force the corrupted souls to fall into line.

"Let's be off then, no one lives forever" he spoke, the humor of his statement lost to him as Adahn chuckled at the irony. This was his life, his new life, one he would endure for untold millennia with his only satisfaction being that all his friends and companions back home were safe. He pondered what they were doing at this very moment, his thoughts drifting back lazily to those five souls that trusted their lives to him and he trusted his death to them.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

"I Swears Skull, if ye don't stop ye blather right now, I'm going ta kick ye so far, ye'll fall off the spire, ye will!" Annah howled at the floating skull at her side, also known as Morte. They had only recently returned to Sigil and she couldn't stop feeling the same ache over and over in her heart, like maybe there was something more she could have done, something she overlooked or missed that could have saved Him from what happened, anything she could have done other than watch stupidly as the only man she ever loved was whisked away to the deepest and foulest place in the multiverse. Her dark red hair fell down from her head and her tight leather outfit portrayed herself in a very seductive and alluring manner, but most men knew better than to come courting or they would soon feel the sting of her punch blades.

"C'mon fiendling, I'm not asking for much, just the occasional bit of love for a cutter who's in sore need right now. Were all sad right now, but you have the power to put a smile on a face, and all it would cost you is the price of a whore" Morte said, clacking his teeth together. Despite having no body, Morte was still one of the best fighters she had ever seen. With his teeth, he's been able to kill demons, people, and shadows, but only being a skull, he possessed the one thing she would have traded all his combat abilities for, the ability to shut up.

"Ye ain't got a face to smile, ye piking skull! Stop rattling your bone box and remember, we need this jink to pay to find him" Annah spoke, patting a small pouch on her side filled with coin. Upon her return to Sigil, the city of doors, she sold off all of her father's collection of things. All his books, all his knick knacks, everything, all for the sake of buying information, all in reference to find their lost leader. They were in the smoldering corpse bar, a name chosen for one of their previous companions who later betrayed them, Ignus. Without him, the name was a mere oddity to all new comers. They sat at a small table they reserved every day to buy and trade information and so far all they could ascertain was this, he no longer was in Sigil, or any plane that was hospitable for that matter. He was forced to reside in the lower hells, fighting in a damnable spectacle known as the blood wars, the fight between the lawful devils and the chaotic ones.

"Query: Annah, why do we wait for our leader in this plane when he has relocated to the lower planes?" spoke the sexless voice of Nordom, the rogue Modron. Annah almost regretted bringing the Modron along, he was intently curious on anything he didn't understand and sought to correct himself of such things, and with himself being freshly rogue, there was a lot he didn't understand about the multiverse, and she was by far not the right person to ask. If only Dakkon had stayed with them and not returned to his people, or even the Succubus so she could pawn off the responsibility of leadership to them, but it was unfortunate that both had disappeared, leaving her all alone to handle the rag tag team of misfits.

"Look you stupid Polygon, I was talking with Annah first, you can ask about the chief later because right now, I'm trying to make the wait for him a little more tolerable, eh?" Morte spoke, eyeing the hooker at the corner of the bar with a lusty look in his eyes. What he would do with her if he had her, Annah didn't want to know, but she for sure wasn't going to let him spend her money to get his head polished by some two bit harlot when that money could get them closer to their goal.

"I swear to the powers, if ye both don't give me a moment's peace…" she began to threaten when a dark robed man stepped forward. His face was tinted dark from a tan and his hands were completely wrapped in bandages like he were a burn victim. He was wiry and tall, and had a look of amusement in his eyes as he looked at her, licking his lips hungrily, as if to eat her up.

"Ye got business with me berk? Otherwise ye best shove off" Annah spoke, showing her usual street tough charm.

"Yes, I do indeed. I hear that Annah, Pharod's daughter, has inherited his vast fortune of wealth" he spoke deeply, filled with malicious intent. Fingering the punch daggers she kept close to her, Annah prepped herself to have to launch at the man in a moment's notice.

"Aye, that I have. What business is it of yours what I be doing with me coin?" she spoke cautiously. The man chuckled slightly and removed his hood to reveal his dark red hair.

"I have also heard your spending every last coin of it, looking for a scarred man that has fallen to the hells to fight in the blood wars" he spoke again.

"Aye again, now answer me this, whose business is it other than mine what I do with me coin?" she asked again.

"My name is Kasadin, and I have information on your scarred man" he spoke again.

"Yeah, you and every other two copper cretin in the hive. You got any proof or you blowing smoke up our arses?" Morte filled in, as descriptive as ever. Sometimes Morte's mouth wasn't all bad, it could piss people off enough to get them to act stupid and Annah could handle stupid people fast. It was the smart ones that scared her.

"You want proof? Here it is" he spoke, throwing a leather bound journal on the table. Annah's heart skipped a beat at the very sight of it, it was the same journal she always saw him scribbling away in, and oh how he loved to take his notes, keen on never forgetting a single thing that happened. Once she had even asked how he could keep such a burdensome thing and all he told her was it was to protect all their experiences together should he forget, and he didn't want to ever forget.

"Where…Where did ye find this?" Annah asked, reverently touching the surface of the book like it were the most precious object in the mutliverse to her now.

"That's not how it works. You do what I need and I give you what I know. All I want is a service from a friend of yours and I'll tell you everything I found out. Agreed?" he spoke seriously. Annah would have agreed to handing him the worlds now for all she cared, all that mattered to her now was to know what this man had in his mind.

"What ye be wanting then?" she asked quietly. He smiled and leaned in close, the scent of brimstone suddenly thick about him as his eyes flared in anger.

"I was separated from my family decades ago. I was to aid my great grandfather in the hells and prove I was worthy to be by his side, and my only task was to grab my bastard sister, a wee little babe from some backwater plane. As I was on my way back, I was attacked by Githyanki, and they destroyed most of the escort. I threw away my sister to save my skin, but when I returned, my great grandfather was so furious with me, he banished me…ME! AND ALL BECAUSE OF SOME BRAT WITH A RAT TAIL!" he began to howl, catching the attention of almost every patron in the bar. The logic of what he spoke slowly dawned on Annah, but Nordom was the first to speak.

"Analysis complete: Probability of Kasadin and Annah blood relation, eighty five percent likely. Logical recourse, you are here to retrieve Annah to complete your assigned task. Odds of compliance, point one percent. Use of force, likely. This one will stop you" Nordom spoke, his Ocular snapping over his eyes as his three gear spirits began to work in unison, his two crossbows and Optix, the rogue gear spirit formed into his Ocular scope. Nordom may have been a barmy cube Annah always thought, but he was accurate and deadly with those crossbows of his, penning men in the dead book before they could even get within ten feet of them.

"Your half right Modron. I'm her brother, that's for sure, but I could care less about her now. I'm already banished and it wouldn't matter if I brought a hundred worthless fiend bloods to him now. All I want now is revenge, I want the Githyanki to suffer and die, to know what it's like to feel agony like none ever before" he spoke, his words calming down and the smell of brimstone fading with his rage. Annah was at a loss for words, this man, this being filled with such rage and anger was her kin? He was a tiefling, that she had no doubt, but actual brother and sister?

"Ye say you're my kin, aye? What proof do ye have?" she asked. Kasadin sneered.

"I don't care what you believe or not. If it helps you sleep better at night, you can think I'm you're great uncle twice dead for all I care, I just want my revenge, so will you help me or not?" he growled, hands already inching toward the journal again. Slamming her punch daggers down on the table before his hand could even get close, she pulled the book close to her.

"Aye, we'll help ye. What have ye got in mind?" she asked, clutching the book as if it were her heart. Smiling, Kasadin relaxed visibly.

"I need the Zerth Dakkon and his Karrach blade to strike down one person, that's all" he spoke and sat at the table.

"Aye, who be the person needing to be penned in the dead book?" she asked, wondering already how she was going to convince the recently freed Githzerai to once again help them.

"I want him to kill Gith" he spoke, his words sliding off his tongue like a serpents. At the mention of Gith, Morte's eyes rolled back in his head.

"Whoa, hold on there you barmy fool! That's the Queen of the Githyanki, and no one even knows if she's dead or not anymore. We can't kill a legend were not even sure is alive or dead!" Morte almost screamed. Nordom nodded his head in agreement.

"Analysis of Kasadin's request. Odds of success, point zero zero zero one percent. Recommended course of action, redefined objective" Nordom spouted, his crossbows twanging in response in rapid succession, as if they were talking to each other.

"You killed a legend before" he spoke wickedly, causing Annah to fly over the table and level her punch daggers at his throat, drawing a single drop of bright red blood.

"Don't ye say another word bout him or I'll gut ye so fast you'll be shaking hands with your great grand pappy before ye can spit!" she hissed out with such ferocity she made even Morte stop for a second. Yet, Kasadin still smiled wickedly.

"Very well, but do we have a deal sister?" he asked, emphasizing the word sister. Slowly withdrawing her punch daggers from his throat, she flicked her tail in deadly irritation.

"Aye, we do, but don't ye ever be callin us Kin again, ya hear me?" she asked him, to which he gave a small rising laugh.

"Whatever you say…Annah".


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

Fall-From-Grace sighed to herself as she walked from man to man amongst the horde of sinners and madmen that would willingly fight for the Tanarri for the price of copper coins. If this were not the most expedient manner to find him, she would have stayed with Annah and aided in her efforts to find information. She, however decided that this path would be the quickest for her and she did not want to place her friends in anymore danger then they were already subjected to. She hoped and prayed that she might find him on her own, without any need for them to place themselves in danger, but she remained realistic in her observations and believed it would take her at least one lifetime to find him, and she couldn't spare that. In a single lifetime, he could perish hundreds of times, so she had to be swift and prey he was able to survive till she could rescue him and deliver him to safety.

The Grey Wastes were a barren place, bled of all color and warmth, it was devoid of all life except for the Tanarri who decided it would be here they would set up their camp for the time being, hoping to catch the Baatezu in a surprise, for this was their foes favorite hunting ground, and if the Tanarri knew one thing, it was that Baatezu were predictable and Tanarri were anything but. Fall-From-Grace diverted her eyes from several of the men, all huddled round one of their friends who recently "Tripped" onto his knife, freeing his possessions to whoever was the swifter. Sighing to herself, she resigned herself to her personal tent compromised of the few souls she found not filled with greed in their hearts, but who signed onto the war out of need for their families and loved ones. Her fellow Tanarri felt this weakness from her, but dared not to challenge her, for her spells as a priestess were far superior to anything they could hope to match. Her ability to summon lightning and call upon her faith to deliver horrifying pain to any who would harm her struck enough fear into her fellows they gave her a wide berth. The Commander of the local Tanarri saw this as a useful knack and one the Baatezu would never expect, making her a tool in their army to further stupefying and confuse the enemy.

"My lady, is everything alright?" came the voice of the young boy who served as one of her personal guards, Jales. He was barely fifteen and yet he already signed a contract to sell his life for the sake of his family, practically dooming himself. He was as strong as most young men came, easily capable of lifting twice as much as any other man, but he was young, foolish, and inexperienced. His skin was still pale in comparison to the rest of the foul host, and if not for her tender ministrations, he would have been lost already to the gaping horde, his blonde hair stained the color of blood and his green eyes glazed over for eternity.

"Everything is alright Jales, I'm merely exhausted from my wandering of the camp. The people fail to see that as long as we fight each other, the odds of any of us surviving drop ever more" she spoke as if from across a great distance. Much of her charm continued to persist, but she knew if not for her already flawless skin, perfect blonde hair, and desirable features, she would look like a mess. She was matted in blood and drenched in sweat, and all she received from her efforts was the countless jeers and sexual offers from those same lives she protected and saved. Her own personal entourage numbered five, following her and guarding her like a precious treasure amidst a den of thieves, fearful that one of the madmen would steal her away in the night if they didn't keep one eye open. Out of the entire horde, thousands upon thousands of men, only five wanted to be saved. When she returned to the society of sensation, she would unload this experience into the public sensory stones so all would know the horror that was the blood wars and never volunteer to be a part of such a terrible thing.

"You shouldn't waste your time with them my Lady, they aren't deserving of your salvation" he spoke, holding for her a set of clean clothes if she wished them. She waved them away, merely wishing to rest, knowing that sleep would be a welcome respite. The loud tromping of boots toward her tent signified that one or more of her other personal entourage had finally returned, and they sounded like they were dragging something heavy.

"My Lady, we…we think we found him" was all one of her men spoke to catch her heart in her throat. Could it be that after only a short week her journey into the hells would be over? Would she finally be able to return home and give this man the life he always deserved to have? The fact they were dragging something and the hesitancy in their voice spoke volumes, but the matter of raising the dead to the living was now no longer a issue with her. She held the required diamonds in a pouch around her neck that she saved for his revival, no matter what form he took, and she was prepared for the eventuality that he was truly dead, but she still hoped that their reuniting moment would be with a deep embrace and tender and heartfelt words of care. She knew she shouldn't feel this way for a man, especially being what she was, but if Ravel the Night Hag had taught her anything, it was that everyone deserved to love.

"Let me see him" was all she said as she prepared herself for the sight of what could be whom she was searching for…or if it was just another failed discovery. Dragging in the body, her heart sank deep into the pit of her stomach as her expectant smile faded to a frown of loneliness. He was indeed a scarred man, covered from head to toe with them, and there were indeed tattoos on his back, but they only spelled out vile oaths to do nefarious deeds to one's mother.

"I'm sorry, he isn't the one. Thank you for bringing this to my attention though" she spoke, her saddened face causing those in her personal care to seem crest fallen. Each time they brought her a new one, they were always filled with hope to see their Ladies true smile, one she could give them with such warmth and happiness it could move them to tears, and with each failure, they feel like they personally buried a dagger deep into her heart.

"Were sorry my lady, we…we honestly thought…"the closest one began to explain before Fall-From-Grace shushed him with her finger, smiling sadly.

"I know it's no fault of yours, and you all do such a wonderful thing for me by helping me look. You try your best and that's all I can ask for" she spoke, her words lifting their sullen spirits.

"I'm sorry, but I must rest now. The day has drained me of my strength and I will need it before we march again" she spoke, ushering them to leave the small section she draped off for privacy. It was in this private moment all to herself where she looks to the ring she wore on her finger, the ring he gave to her. He didn't know that wearing the ring would cause it to latch onto its owner and never let go, and he apologized to her countless times to which she would merely wave it off and joke half teasingly to him that they were now engaged. She could easily remove the ring if she truly wanted, but to her, it felt comfortable, familiar, like a pleasant memory. Looking to the other gift he bestowed upon her, she pulled out the intestinal charm he gave to her as a joke as well, saying she now carried a piece of him wherever she might go now. It was this charm that actually bolstered her natural defenses and even gave her a very limited regenerative capability, even though the magics that made him immortal were now undone the charm retained its potency. It was a grim gift, but useful, and that was one of his many endearing traits to her, his charm enough to convince a beautiful woman to wear a mass of intestines around her wrist and be proud of it.

It was these memories of him that stirred her heart and caused her to cry, to cry to sleep where she would see him again and again for eternity.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter four**_

Adahn woke from his sleep the moment he heard the tell tale sign of someone trying to be quiet. In this hellish prison, the only reason a person would not want to be heard meant he was after your life. His eyes opened and the moment he saw a man hunched over his body with a knife glinting, he snapped his leg straight up, thrusting his knee right into the man's chest, causing him to wheeze in pain. Adahn lunged forward, his hands wrapping around the man's neck as his free hand grabbed the knife in his belt, pressing the tip right on top of the assailants heart should crushing his throat be unsuccessful. It was in the light that shone through the makeshift tent he made out the face and couldn't help but feel surprised, it was one of the men he took under his wing as an apprentice, a scrawny youth with black hair and brown eyes who stared at him with extreme fear and hatred.

"Why? Why would you seek to kill me? I have done nothing to you and helped you refine your grasp of the Art, so why?" he asked, referring to the universal term for casting spells and performing magic.

"I…I read how to cast a spell to learn everything of another man. All I had to do was kill you and extract your brain and cast the right spells and your knowledge would have been mine" he spoke, too dumbstruck to tell a lie and too stupid to stay silent. Adahn felt as if his young apprentice succeeded for the wound to his heart stung of betrayal bitterly. Releasing his throat, he stood up and with sadden eyes, pushed him away.

"I won't kill you. Leave me, and never return" he spoke, catching his apprentice by surprise. An arrogant and haughty smile crossed his lips as he began to laugh.

"So it's true? You really are too weak to be here, aren't you? You're too soft and it will only prove your death" he began to gloat, knowing his master's heart would never strike him down.

"He may be soft, but I sure ain't" came a voice from behind the shocked apprentice. A hefty battle ax cleaved through the boy, severing spinal cord and muscle, the young one falling to the floor in a heap, still in shock and not fully realizing what had just befell him till the light faded from his eyes.

"Ya alright Adahn?" Caberus asked, stepping over the mess that was Adahn's old apprentice. Adahn let out a deep sigh before he could answer.

"Had he only waited, waited a few years and soaked in everything I taught him, he could have been safe and skilled. But no, he threw it away for the chance to get power quick. Is this what mankind is within this hell? Greedy and arrogant beasts that care little for anything, even their own survival?" Adahn mused out loud, not sure how Caberus would respond.

"Don't let the little wretch throw ya out of whack Adahn. I happen ta like living and you're my best bet, so ya can be sure I ain't gonna let ya get penned in the dead book yet" he spoke.

"Very well Caberus, I will continue to provide support through the Art, but I still find something like this to be disturbing" he spoke, his eyes drifting over to the mess on the ground.

"Don't ya worry, I'll gather him up so ya just get back to sleep and keep ya brain box filled with spells" he spoke, already lifting the boy's corpse, probably thinking of which way were best to cook his remains. It never ceased to amaze Adahn how he accepted cannibalism and how everyone else in the legion not only seemed to accept it, but would fight over who got the tastier scraps of flesh. It was indeed like every one of them became nothing more than mindless animals, only intent on surviving, no matter with or without their dignity and morals intact.

Left alone in the tent again, Adahn pulled out his new journal he began to use to keep track of everything that occurred around him. He took out the quill and small inkpot filled with his blood he drained to work as makeshift ink before he began scrawling in the small leather bound journal.

_It has been over three weeks since I regained my mortality and all I can think of is how much I despise being in the hells. The people are vile, the food is the people, and the fighting is never ending. We fight and beat Tanarri demons only to have them rush us and begin to tear away our flesh and bone. They are savage warriors, using their hatred and chaotic behaviors as shields in which they are protected from pain till after they kill their foes._

Waiting for the blood to dry, he pondered over his old companions. He remembered Morte's incurable mouth always cracking jokes and behaving wildly, yet he was always a steadfast and loyal friend. He remembered wise and powerful Dakkon, a slave to his former self yet he grew to call him his ally. He remembered Nordom and couldn't help but smile at how the Modron always seemed curious about everything in the planes and whether it was his own curiousness or the desire to go along with the silly creatures desires for explanations, he always enjoyed teaching him everything he wanted to know. His thoughts of Annah and Fall-From-Grace were mired in confusion, for he felt strongly for the both of them and even if he had another lifetime to try and puzzle out his feelings, he wasn't sure if he could choose between the two of them, the fiery and passionate Annah and the collected and beautiful Fall-From-Grace. It was these thoughts that gave him the urge to write more.

_I can't stop thinking about my friends and companions, wondering what they are doing now, if they are living their own ways now or if they are still searching for me. I want them to be able to live wonderful lives, or in Morte's case, afterlife, but I know deep down they are looking for me, seeking me and trying to save me from this fate I deserve. This is my burden to bear and they already died for me once, I don't want them to have to have to suffer another because of me._

As he stopped, he felt a slight ache in his head as more memories forced their way to the surface of his mind. The memories of all his past lives still needed time to be sorted through in his brain, but at least he had them now and they weren't lost to him. He lived so many lives, some good, others vile. Every experience and thought had filtered through him and was seeking the proper place within his mind, but it would be so long before he could filter through everything and remember what he was, but he had nothing but time. Finally, he decided it was time to end the entry before he became lost in the memories of his past.

_To my friends, if you find this and I am no longer able to rejoin you, I want you to know this, I am sorry. I'm sorry for all the pain I have caused you and sorry that you have wasted your time only to find a journal. I want you to know that you all are in my thoughts and nothing will make me forget ever again._

Satisfied with the page filled with his blood and writing, he closed the book and put it away before drifting back into sleep, though not too deeply, lest another jealous mageling try and steal his brain in the night.

Authors notes:

To everyone reading this, i figured i'd like to let everyone know that i intend to keep writing this, giving this incredible game the due it rightfully deserves. Planescape Torment is one of the best games on the computer, and despite the shame of it being so grossly underappreciated, it will forever remain a classic and i will do my best to recapture the feel within this writing, though i personally feel i wont be able to do it near enough justice. Well, please review my work, good or bad, so i know what you all think so i can try to improve. Thank you

Jalein Foxkin


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter five**_

_Standing aboard the vessel known as the "Star Jammer", Annah perused the small leather bound journal with rapt attention. She read each page with an intense hunger, eager for any scrap of information, any clue to their leaders whereabouts, as if he was a Seer and could predict they would need the information. He was gifted with the art, and not just a passing, he was a genius with it. She personally watched him bend reality with nothing more then a thought and the desire to see something done, she watched him cast spells that would make many of the so called greatest casters of sigil fall to their knees in reverence, she saw him unmake a foe, merely by Wishing it._

_And yet, he couldn't avoid his ultimate fate…_

_Banishing the dark thoughts, she chuckled to herself as she read over the vivid descriptions he gave when he first came out of the Mortuary, a giant building in sigil meant to serve as a place to set the dead to rest and serve as a main building of office for the dustmen, a barmy sect in Sigil dedicated to seeing everyone dead in their own due time. He described everything with the same light as a new born, describing the dull grays like vibrant flushes of color, the choked and dying weeds as valiantly struggling to live in an oppressive environment, the dirty and filthy people as, well, dirty and filthy, but carrying with them the dignity to live their lives as best they could. It amused her to see the world through these eyes that had so caught her attention, always kind, caring, and full of life._

"_Query: Nordom addresses Annah to the nature of the swirling vapors floating above our vessel" Nordom's monotone voice spoke, breaking her from her thoughts. With a violent snap back to reality, she turned to the modron with an angry scowl._

"_Can't ye see I be busy ye waste o scrap iron?" she snapped, tucking the book away into her knap sack she used to carry her possessions. _

"_Oculars working at ninety nine percent accuracy. Analysis of current situation: subject Annah is reading previous Leaders personal journal. Possible reason for action: Searching for clues to previous leaders location, Nostalgia, confirmation of previous leaders feelings toward Annah, previous leaders feelings for subject Fall-From-Grace-" he began to rattle off when Annah began to grow hot at what he was saying._

"_What ye have ta bring up her for? I ain't lookin fer anything ta do with the blasted Tanarri witch anyways, and what ye mean feelings fer me?" she spat out. Nordoms eyes clicked rapidly for a few seconds and even Optix seemed to whirl a little as he and the other two gear spirits began to converse._

"_Rebuttal, the subject Annah has displayed a marked increase of Hormone fluctuation, resulting in blood rising to the surface of your skin, resulting in a flushed appearance whenever previous leader is brought as subject. Further evidence includes obsessive and driven behavior, hostilities toward Subject Fall-From-Grace, calling out to subject "Scarred dog" in rest cycles in a provocative manner" he spoke._

"_That's got nothing ta do with-I don't be callin fer no man while I be-HOW LONG HAVE YE BEEN WATCHIN ME?!" Annah howled, drawing the attention of the other crewman awake manning the deck._

"_Processing…Since I started to notice the marked change in the subject Annah's behavior. Query: are you suffering from a virus? If so, Nordom will begin compiling data to assist in your memory recovery" He spoke. Annah slowly winded down as she realized he was only trying to help her in his own…unique way. It had been a few days since they joined Kasadin and began headed to the monastery where Dakkon was supposedly training the next generation of Githzerai in the ways of his people, but so far all they were doing was sailing through the infinite and chaotic plane of limbo, home of many of the most bizarre and otherworldly creations the multiverse. _

"_Nay, I be…fine" she said suddenly worn out._

"_Nordom…do ye wonder…What he thought of ye?" she asked him, not sure what to expect. Nordom seemed to hesitate, his eyes contracting and expanding within the span of a few seconds before he spoke next._

"_Query addressed to Nordom, what he thought of me…Unable to form an analysis at this present time. Data missing on present query. Possible resolution, within the personal records of previous leader. Query: May Nordom see personal journal of previous leader?" he asked, almost sounding pleading. At that moment, Annah thought she saw him the way that He used to see Nordom, not as a unemotional and unfeeling tool or annoyance, but as a person with his own way of saying what he desires, just requiring a little understanding, seeing him as someone who also missed their leader. Gingerly handing the journal to Nordom, she eyed it carefully, fearful of it disappearing at any moment._

"_Ye best not be losing it" she said as Nordom began to open the pages and scan over them with his eyes, Optix clicking into place over his eyes, as if itself were curious as well._

"_Gratitude's and gratefuls to Subject Annah. Return of previous leaders journal within forty eight hours estimated time. Condition of journal, scorched from Baator, flecked with rusted metal and blood from Tanarri, will return in-" he said as Annah stopped him._

"_Wait, ye KNOW where these marks be from?" she asked. They knew he was now a part of the blood war, but they never knew what plane itself or side he was taken to work with._

"_Analysis of current condition…Marks are of a specific heat and nature found only on Baator. Likely analysis, An excess of time was spent within Baator. The large quantity of Tanarri blood spilled upon the surface is in such a fashion that they were spilt in struggle, making the tanarri to be the likely assailant" he spoke._

"_Ye blasted fool, ye just narrowed down our search by half! I could kiss ye!" she said, suddenly her mood raised from the pit of her stomach. _

"_Annah, incoming entity of unknown origin. Possibility of hostilities, ninety five percent. Recommend course of action, force" Nordom spoke, confusing Annah as she cocked her head to the side in confusion when a sudden burst from the mass of raw energy known as limbo came what could only be described as a massive worm easily eighty feet long and twenty feet wide. Crashing onto the side of the vessel, several of the sailors were flung from the ship, falling into the shifting plane, leaving the protective barrier of the ship giving them stability. Annah watched as one particular soul was warped as he was falling, body being twisted and mangled yet not a single bone broken, his arms seeming to want to wrap around in a contorted fashion. The poor man if he was lucky would die soon, before he suffered too much agony._

_Spilling forth from the worms mouth, several strange men emerged with cruel looking implements of combat, their features violent and wicked. Their skin was yellowed and flecked like Dakkon's but Annah could tell from her past experiences that these were not one of Dakkon's people, they were his mortal enemies, the Githyanki._

_They spoke in a harsh and twisted language and gave directions as they began to assault the sailors not flung overboard._

"_Aye ye walking box, back me up" Annah spoke as she pulled forth her punch blades and rushed forward as she heard the tell tale clicks of Nordoms bows clicking and twanging threateningly. _

_Rushing up to one of the first Githyanki, she used the flat of her arm to push aside its arms and uppercut right into its waiting chin, the punch blades making a sickening crunch as they split bone as the body went limp being carried upward from the force of the strike. Several others seemed stunned at the attack but quickly regained their composure and began to lunge for her. With an expertly placed backhand, Annah placed the back of her fist to catch one of the attackers in the face as she punched clear through its throat with her other arm, blades catching and dragging, gore and bone sliding down the blades. The remaining four, feeling confident in their odds tried to swing down their weapons to strike her but with a deft roll out of the cluster, she growled at them fiercely as a sudden wave of bolts came whistling through the air to strike them in their vitals with almost pin point precision. Looking back, she could see Nordoms ocular snapped into place and his four arms all working in mass unison to load and reload his crossbows, already seeking new targets. _

_Looking to the rest of the vessel, the remaining sailors seemed to have everything else under control, forcing the remaining ones to begin to withdraw. She even saw Kasadin fighting, the bandages on his hands fallen away to reveal long and slender claws glowing an intense fiery red. With each slash, he seared flesh from bone, screams a symphony to his ears as he seemed to enjoy hurting the githyanki. As the remaining Githyanki fled back into the innards of the worm, it withdrew itself from the deck of the ship and fled back into the swirling ether that was the plane of limbo. Kasadin had his boot on the chest of one surviving Githyanki who remained breathing, deep seared gashes in his flesh._

" _Why did you attack us? Speak wretched thing before I start tearing out your fingers from your hand digit by digit" he threatened, the ferocity in his voice showing he meant every word. _

"_We heard you headed for Karrach-reborn, we were going to capture you all and make you tell us what you were doing. If you were up to nothing, we would have killed you quickly" he spoke with a hateful tongue. Kasadin pressed the tip of his clawed hands on the creatures throat._

"_Kill US quickly? You have no idea who we are, do you?" he asked above the howling, pained screams the Githyanki was issuing through his burned throat._

"_We are the ones who are going to take the head of your precious…gith. We will be the ones who will parade that head at the top of our banner, showering your pathetic race in eternal darkness! WE WILL BE THE ONES TO STAMP YOUR WORTHLESS HIDES-" he was screaming when Annah couldn't take it anymore and gave the poor thing a merciful death at her punch blades. Kasadin looked up to her, a strange look on his face._

"_I wasn't finished Annah, I was going to gloat more" he spoke irritated._

"_Da poor thing was already dead! No need ta torture it anymore then ya haf ta" she spoke back. The assembled crew all seemed to nod their heads in agreement. Kasadin seemed more annoyed then anything at this._

"_Oh? And here you are doing what I'm PAYING you to do? Last I checked, your only here so you can kill their bitch that they worship for a ratty journal. If you don't want to keep your end of the deal, I can always take back mine" he said, threat thick in his voice._

"_Don't ye be makin threats at me ye poor excuse fer a gutter snipe. We be killin yer githyanki for ye, but we be doing it our way, and that don't include mindless an pointless torture" she spoke with authority. Kasadin merely sighed and headed back below deck, but not before throwing her a snide remark._

"_You best watch your tongue, lest some less then generous demon cuts it out of your still talking mouth…Annah" he said and went back below deck._

"_Analysis complete. Odds of Kasadin's eventual attempt of ripping out Annah's tongue, fifty percent likely. Recourse, Nordom will watch him carefully" Nordom spoke. If Annah ever thought the Modron was capable of disdain for a person, this would be the time._

"_Aye, ye be doing that" she spoke and went back to her perch at the railing, watching the chaotic plane of limbo once again._

Author notes:

Well, i know its been forever since i updated this story, but i always promised myself that if someone reviews my work, then i cant stop writting it. So, here it is, the long awaited 5th chapter. I always enjoy writing with Nordom. He's like a curious HK 47 (KOTOR reference for those of you who dont know) and I think im getting back into the full swing of writing, just wish i had more people to read some of this stuff, but beggars cant really be choosers, right? anyway, i liked the scene with Annah fighting, i thought it was pretty good for a fight scene though a little short. I'm trying to make my fight scenes longer but i keep cutting them short. I guess im still in the habit from PST of trying to solve my issues with long dialogue :P, lol.

Anyway, as always, please review, good or bad so i know if this is worth your time reading and my time writing. Also, to answer some questions i had raised, yes going after Gith is a little extreme for the old crew, but its meant to be extreme, like a near impossible mission. this story has to be intensive and i fully intend on making it that way. Also, i am using pieces of equipment from the game like mempha's biting ring or Optix, the cursed ocular. i found it gives the story more life and more of that planescape feeling. anyway, thats it for now, peace

Jalein Foxkin


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

_Fall-From-Grace woke from her sleep awkwardly. She could already smell the scent of blood in the air, and it was fresh. Looking about, she couldn't readily identify the source until it was right on top of her. A rather large imp was sitting on one of her nearby pillows, chewing on a severed hand…one she recognized to belong to one of her personal guards. Standing to her feet in a rush, she rushed out her tent still in her night gown to see something to cause her stomach to almost involuntarily retch._

_Lying in pools of blood, almost all of her guards were lying dead, some hacked apart, others being still eaten as intestines spilt on the ground. Of all her guards, only Jales still stood, holding the green steel spear in his trembling hands against a massive balor, a demon roughly ten feet tall with blood red scales as hard as steel and a reptilian and monstrous face filled with rows of neatly cleaned and lined teeth along with a pair of massive bat wings and clawed hands, looking down on him with amused curiosity._

"_What a funny little creature you are. You stand against me, Wendxxyil, and you think you have a prayer in the abyss of defeating me? I'd laugh were you worthy of such praise" it spoke, attention suddenly drawn to Fall-From-Grace._

"_Ah, and there's the reason for my visit. My fallen grace, have you finally decided to consider my proposal?" he asked, his words echoing throughout the wastes._

"_You…you killed my Coterie over your misguided attempts at courtship?" Fall-From-Grace asked stunned. Wendxxyil had made his presence known to her earlier and tried to force himself upon her, but with her divine magic, she was able to leave a painful reminder she wasn't to be taken lightly. Ever since, he had seemed to show her a measure of respect in the only way most demons know how, he wanted to own her. He tried to coax her to accompany him and be his concubine, but for all his attempts, she politely refused him each and every time. It appears to be this was the last time he was going to ask nicely._

"_Courtship? That implies you're my equal in some fashion. No, I want to own you and make you my servant. I assure you, its not as bad as it sounds. You wont go hungry, you can have all the young toys you desire, and furthermore, you get the grand honor of serving my will. Now, why don't you move your legs and come over to my side" he spoke, a strange toothy smile that showed fangs as sharp and deadly as any dagger._

"_Don't listen to him Mistress! You don't have to do what he says!" Jales called when the demon backhanded Jales into a wall, a river of blood gushing from his mouth._

"_you cease to amuse me mortal. Be silent and let my other pets devour your flesh to serve my purposes" he commanded, several hungry looking imps suddenly turning to face him. Fall-From-Grace looked over to the Balor and her eyes narrowed._

"_I have told you before, I neither need nor desire your offer. Leave me and the mess you have created" she spoke. At this, the demon laughed, a horrible sound that seemed to sound like a hundred people screaming a death cry._

"_You command me? I think you are confused my fallen grace, I am your superior. Perhaps I should show you through force as I-" he starts when lightning crackled from the cloudless sky. He looked into Fall-From-Graces eyes and saw her point a single digit in his direction threateningly._

"_I said leave" she spoke, her words deadly and sharp. She could hear Jales using his spear to stab at the imps that were barreling in on him. Her back was turned so she could not see how he was faring but she did hear the tell tale sign of flesh being bitten into._

"_Very well then. Perhaps another time when I see fit to grant you an audience" he spoke and snapped his powerful clawed fingers._

"_Come my pets, we are needed in other places" he spoke and began to walk off. When she was sure he was gone, Fall-From-Grace ran to assess the damage to Jales body. It was a grim sight, the little imps managed to bite into his stomach and tearing out a large chunk of his innards. Jales barely held the remaining gore inside, looking to her with a pained smile._

"_You…turned him away Mistress. Everyone would be proud…" he said, barely staying alive. Fall-From-Grace acted quickly, using her power to touch him and mend his broken wounds. Flesh that was once broken and sundered slowly began to knit together, sealing the insides to stay inside. Skin that was deathly pale slowly returned to life as blood seemed to miraculously return to his body. Within the span of moments, the fatal wound he suffered was no more, not even a scar to show how close he was to death. Looking to him with a sad smile, Fall-From-Grace turned to look to the others. Her other guards were, unfortunately, too far gone. Their bodies were desecrated and lifeless, as if the Balor took the time to ensure she couldn't restore them to life. It may have been his plan the whole time._

"_Jales…if you could gather the remains of our companions, I wish to cast a blessing on them to see them safely to the next life. I wouldn't wish them to be trapped in this horrible place a moment longer" she spoke sadly. Jales stood up and instantly set about his grim task. _

"_Mistress, will you be alright?" he asked, looking to her to assess her condition._

"_I shall be fine Jales. Please, you must make haste" she spoke, looking to each and every one. Poor Charles joined the blood war to afford medicine for his ailing wife and child, promising them he would return to grow old with his wife and see his son grow into a man, a promise he wont be able to keep now. Frederick joined the blood war under misguided thoughts of glory, only realizing his folly upon his arrival, and all he ever wanted to see was his mom again to tell her how much of a fool he was. Redger and Gerard were brothers who joined to earn money enough to see their younger sister in a beautiful white wedding dress, throwing their lives away so she might have a wonderful start. All their lives thrown away and all for some demons pride and ego._

_It was barely ten minutes when Jales assembled the collected pile of bodies in one spot._

"_Mistress?" he spoke looking to her. Fall-From-Grace looked to the crude pile of flesh being all that remained of her loyal companions and began to whisper a small prayer._

"_May you each find what you seek in a plane far kinder and gentler then this one" she whispered and with a small flicker of flame that erupted from her finger tips, she set the bodies aflame to allow them to not be some demons treat._

"_Mistress, it wasn't your fault this-"Jales tried to speak when Fall-From-Grace walked back inside her tent, only calling to him to tell him she didn't want to be disturbed. Within the confines of her small sanctuary, she fell to her knees and clutched at her head painfully, trying to banish the darkness that seemed to be ever creeping in her mind. She was the one who led them together and the reason they were slaughtered. She was the reason they died. She was responsible for their lives and their futures and dreams, and now they were all gone. She couldn't help but blame herself for what had just occurred, and as the ever darker thoughts attempted to creep in, she felt a slight twinge from the mass of intestines wrapped around her wrist. It occasionally twitched, the sign of life that refused to give up. Looking to it, she thought to herself this must have been how he felt, holding all their lives in his hands, looking to them when they all perished in his name which they never were able to hear. She took comfort in knowing that he persevered and managed to press onward, carrying those that fell along the way with him. Borrowing from strength she didn't know she possessed, she stood to her feet and breathed deeply. She wouldn't back down and let the world beat him down, she had more important things to accomplish, such as his rescue from whatever prison he may be interned in, no matter how long it took to find him. _

_She would find him and free him, that she felt no doubt._

Authors notes:

Well, i think this is a good start in actually writing more frequently again. im actually starting to write more of the other works i have ongoing, im not spending quite so much time on DDO anymore, and i have that accomplished feeling i get after a nice long writing session. I think Fall-From-Grace has acted as she would in the situation, saving those she could and blessing those she couldnt, and afterwards dealing with the inner turmoil she must be feeling from it. I hope i nailed the haughty, arrogant, and evil demeanor of a Balor appropriately, though i think i did a pretty good job of it. Now, to address some issues that have been brought to my attention in the previous chapter, yes i made a goof and forgot all about poor lonely morte. I assure you that was entirely accidental, i meant to throw in the conversation that he was below deck sleeping or whatever floating skulls do, but i must have forgot, my apologies. Also, thank you for the reccomendation of adding the yugoloth into the blood war. i'm not as up to date on my Blood war knowledge as i should be and after a little more research and making sure they fit the scenario, i think i may find an appropriate place to put them in.

now, to personal griping and bitching about outside life. feel free to skip this part, its about my real life :P. i got into a fight with my GF today...well, not so much a fight as more of me being ignored and getting pissy about it and then her breaking down crying. Women confuse the ever living hell out of me, no pun intended considering what i'm writing about, and sometimes i dont understand them. She can get upset and i'm supposed to drop everything im doing to take care of her needs and wants, but if i get upset, im supposed to suck it up and pretend everythings ok? Gah, its retarded, even if men are supposed to be stronger i wish that women wouldnt take advantage of the fact. Sometimes a guy needs to get something off his chest and he should be heard by AT LEAST his gf about it. Well, thats enough of my bitching, and as always, please review good or bad so i get more feedback and can improve the story more.

Jalein foxkin


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter Seven**_

"_Adahn, if ya happen ta be savin up some big spell, now would be the time ta use it" Caberus said, blood dribbling out several open wounds all over his body. Adahn calmly surveyed the situation and recalled the moments that led to their predicament. They were marching toward Ptreola across Stygia, the frozen hell. It was unbearably cold where many of the march were crying out from the whipping winds, victims of frostbite and skin blue from hypothermia. The darkened sky occasionally belched out a stray lightning bolt, striking the ever frozen ice they walked across, great shards of frozen water being sent every direction from the impact. The devils didn't seem the least bit bothered by the cold and seemed to take great joy in the suffering of their army, insisting on giving them frequent breaks to "Rest", only an excuse to let the men suffer a little longer in the unbearable chill. Adahn was prepared and cast spells of warmth over his and Caberus's body, providing them with much needed vitality and life, so they could actually enjoy their breaks as they came. It was one of these many breaks the Tanarii struck._

_Hiding under a particularly thin patch of ice, or thin compared to the rest of the world, the fiends coaxed several of the larger inhabitants under the ice to lash out, striking viciously with many dark and rubbery tendrils easily going as long as forty feet high and as thick as a man was tall wide. There seemed to be no end to the number of tendrils that sprouted from beneath the surface and many of the army were sucked into the frozen waters, their death cries ringing in the air as terrified men clutched at non existent hand holds in the ice, finding none, and dragged beneath the darkened waters. Over two thirds of their army was decimated in the initial strike, and then the fiends themselves arrived, aided by what could only be described as walking sharks. The mere sight of them caused Adahn to feel a slight headache as one of his past lives was actually a fisherman and these beasts plagued the seas, the Sahuagin were easily six feet tall, muscled, and had teeth as large as daggers with scales hard and slippery, making them difficult to penetrate. They began to tear through the remaining soldiers, biting and rending flesh from bone with no remorse or regret. Blood that fell onto the ice added to the slick surface, almost freezing the moment it made contact, making fighting even more difficult, the plan a resounding success on the Tanarii's part, and a humiliating blow to the Baatezu, one that might cost Adahn and Caberus their lives. _

_They barely managed to escape the chaos of the broken ice flow and were making a mad dash to the devil commander when over thirty demons and sahugin encircled them, cackling to themselves at their catch._

"_Caberus, if you can buy me a minute, I think I have just the spell. Think you can stay alive that long?" He asked, already flipping through his spell book to the appropriate pages. Caberus smirked and spit out a gob of blood at the feet of several of the closer foes._

"_I'll buy ya twenty seconds, after that, no promises" he spoke, hefting his ax high into the air menacingly as its four blades on either side seemed to thirst for blood._

"_It will have to do" Adahn retorted and he kneeled onto the ice and began chanting and forming symbols with his own blood. The Sahuagin took this as a sign of weakness and lunged forward, intent on tearing out his flesh from his still living body. With a arcing swing, two of the shark men were punctured clean through by Caberus's ax and sent flying easily ten feet, giving the others pause as the massive man scowled at the lot of them menacingly._

"_I'm yer opponent ya fish faced freaks! Come get me!!" he called, challenging the horde of Sahuagin and demons to fight him. Hesitating for a second was all Caberus needed from them as he barreled toward the nearest cluster, swinging his ax with the grace of a cleaver but the power of a bull, easily catching one in the chest and managing to still follow through with the swing into another, not slowing the man down in the least. Several of the nearer ones saw this opportunity to strike at him and lunged at him, teeth exposed. It was then they ran into a invisible barrier of force, a spell Adahn cast earlier to provide a little extra cover over his body. Swapping to swinging the weapon in one hand, Caberus grabbed the throat of one of the nearby assailants stunned by the spell and crushed the windpipe, causing it to start to gasp as he lifted the body with one hand and threw it into the other oncoming attackers, using it as a makeshift projectile. Bringing the ax to bear, he swung upward on one other of the fishmen, bashing the underside of its skull with hurricane force, sending it into the air as gouts of blood sprayed from the exposed wounds and without missing a beat, twirling around his body to bring the force of the ax much like a bat to send the corpse into another drove massing to attack him. _

_Ten seconds down Adahn thought, still drawing the diagrams on the parchment of skin he kept prepared, his blood forming into the semi-circles and symbols of the Art, when out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the fiends, a rank and file plane touched tiefling, reach out with a short sword for Adahn's vitals. The sudden crashing of steel met his ears as Caberus's weapon broke the sword and his foot connected with the tieflings face, sending it sprawling outward, its face covered with blood that gushed forth._

"_How much longer ya need?!" he called out, brandishing his ax at the nearer ones, causing them to retreat a step for only a second._

"_You will know when I'm ready" he spoke, barely able to say that much lest he lose focus on his task._

"_Get yer arse in gear Adahn! I can't keep this up forever!" he said just as several more of the Sahuagin jumped at him, one making it past the shielding spell and biting deep into his leg muscles, causing Caberus to groan out in pain as he punched down with the ax into the base of the creatures skull. The others seemed to take this as a chance and began to swarm on him, biting and clawing with every chance they could get. With a roar of rage, Caberus grabbed one of the corpses of his foes by their leg and his ax in one hand and began to hack down on his opponents with feral ferocity, a look of blood lust deep in his eyes as he used their own dead as a makeshift club, swinging the body and ax like they were toys to him. _

_Adahn finished the rough diagram of the spell and chanted the words as quickly as possible, the art flowing out from his hands into the ice around them as he watched all about him, picking the targets of his spell. Caberus had just turned his second makeshift club into a bloody pulp when suddenly the ice around every single Sahuagin and fiend creeped up on them, startling them as they became slowly encased from foot to head. Within a matter of moments, the some fifteen remaining enemies were incased in blocks of ice, looks of horror forever trapped on their faces. Caberus took a moment to settle from his deadly berserker wrath, the wind out from his lungs as he turned back to look at Adahn._

"_Creeping ice. A spell developed for combat over frozen terrain, it incases your victim and kills them from lack of air. It takes some time to prepare though and I didn't think the Tanarii would be crazed enough to attack us here" Adahn spoke as Caberus kneeled down for a moment._

"_Ya…should know…Tanarii are crazy enough…Ta try anything" he managed to wheeze out. Adahn offered him his shoulder and allowed him to get back to his feet as they made their way back to the only remaining portion of the baatezu, a small contigent of devils and only a hundred human souls._

"_Were alive Caberus, that's all that matters" Adahn spoke, aiding him as they limped toward the remaining troops, grateful for surviving another day. _

Authors notes:

Addressing some of the issues from the past chapter, i admit i was stingy with the details, particularly on background and the like. That i apologize for and now i know to address the issue more and will focus on that from now on as well. Also, in reference to the previous chapters Balor retreating from the fight, i suppose i didnt make it entirely clear as to why he should leave. the short of it is that Fall-From-Grace hit him hard with her divine magic, and even if it wont kill or beat a balor, it would still hurt like nobodies business, and most people dont like to get hurt. Fall-from-grace was alluding to using more similar magic against him should he have pushed the issue. Also, i thank the readers for their critiquing, otherwise such issues would never be addressed and the overall quality of the work wouldnt be nearly as good as it should be, so thank you and keep hitting me with what you believe to be is important.

as for this chapter, i think i was able to extend the fight scene to a good bit. it gives Caberus some bad ass points, gives you a clear view of his weapon and fighting style (crazy berserker), and shows how he interacts with Adahn. I had to do a little bit more research for this chapter then normal, but i think it went well.

Anyway, thank you for reading, please continue to review, good or bad, and please continue to be patient with me, its hard to get into the mood for writing sometimes, and even worse to actually try and write well. Peace

Jalein Foxkin


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter Eight**_

_Stepping into the audience chamber of the Githzerai, Annah felt you might as well call it a barracks. The walls that weren't bare held trophies of many different creatures, including the heads of what she could only describe as an octopus man, tendrils as the mouth and purple rubbery flesh. Weapons were placed in racks against the wall and the scent of sweat was still thick in the air, this must have also been a place used for training and meditation. It was a simple place, made from simple material, but held one of the strongest and most powerful warriors she ever laid eyes on. Walking in slowly with her other companions at her back, she looked to either side, seeing many of the Githzerai that stood there. Many were young, or at least they looked young she thought, the flesh on their frames was smooth and finely toned with muscle, but what disturbed her the most was the stiffness of their faces. Annah felt very uncomfortable in any situation controlled by rules and order, preferring to find her own freedom and way of doing things, but she would stomach it for this one case._

_At the end of the columns of Githzerai stood an old man, his skin wrinkled with many years of age, how many exactly even she couldn't fathom. His armor was the same as she remembered and even his face seemed the same, this was Dakkon. She knew the berk was old, but she had no idea exactly how old. She thought he would drop over the moment they returned to sigil actually, but then he silently and stoically went off and, apparently, formed his own little monastery to train more law crazy zealots of his. _

"_Annah, I see you have come. May I assume that you also know my answer is unchanged" he spoke, his voice almost sounding ages older, dry and wispy. Annah gulped silently, knowing she wasn't going to easily convince him. After all, he may have followed Him just as she had, but he was forced to, chained by his own words as it were, and it wasn't the same to her where if she didn't like the deal she'd back out. To Dakkon, his word meant everything. Upon His returning memories, Dakkon declared his debt repaid and despite Annah's desperate attempts to keep him from leaving, he refused and left silently. Now, she was expected to try and convince him to not only change his mind, but to undertake a mad quest to slay a creature that might not even exist?_

"_Aye, I be knowing ye answer be unchanged, but I be askin again none the less" she spoke, trying her best to sound as strong and confident as possible. Dakkon eyed her with his coal black eyes and she thought she saw a ripple in his famed blade, the Karrach. _

"_My answer is…as always. I have repaid my debt and I have returned to the people. Much are my responsibilities I have to the people and I cannot abandon them, no matter who asks" he spoke, his voice resounding with the strength and conviction of his words._

"_Aw, come on gith-head, we could seriously use your help in locating the chief again. Once we get him back, I'm sure you can just come back and everything will be back to normal, right?" Morte spoke, floating a few feet behind her, his jaw clacking slightly as he spoke. The sight obviously disturbed many of the Githzerai, but they barely let it show on their faces that seemed as set with rigor mortis like a Dustmen's._

"_I will not turn my back on the people Morte, on my people. I assume this concludes your visit?" he spoke, about to turn his back. A slight chuckle from Kasadin caught everyone's attention as he strode forward, standing halfway between Dakkon and Annah._

"_So, you're the great and powerful Dakkon, huh? The last wielder of the Karrach blade? Well, unlike these people you traveled with, I have something you might listen to" he spoke, a smirk on his face. Dakkon seemed to wrinkle his nose in disdain but looked at him none the less._

"_Very well then, speak" Dakkon told him. Turning to face the columns, Kasadin spoke in a loud and booming voice._

"_Great and powerful Githzerai, I come here on a mission of the gravest peril and danger! I come here seeking your hero, Dakkon, Follower of Zerthimon and wielder of the Karrach blade to help me in this quest!" Kasadin spoke, catching everyone's attention. Annah looked on in slight nervousness, he was a leader, in his voice and words, not like her…he was more suited for this task then she could ever have been._

"_I come here to request your heroes aid in slaying the one truest threat to your people! I come here to request his aid to slay the one and only Gith!" he continued, the mere mention of her name causing some to gasp in surprise. Annah almost could have sworn it was her imagination, but she thought she felt a tremor in the ground, but then she remember, this was limbo, where thought shaped the very walls around them. If he swayed them too much, he might literally bring the monastery down around them._

"_So what does your hero say? Does he accept this noble undertaking? Does he help us destroy the one thing that plagues both your world and ours? Or does he hide in these walls with his tail between his legs like a scared dog? What say you Dakkon?" he said, turning to look upon Dakkon, a strange gloating smile on his face. Dakkon's face was stone cold and resolute._

"_Your words were not spoken to me, they were spoken to the people, hoping to force me to join you. You wield language like a knife, hoping to use this to unknow ourselves just as the flayers of minds once did. You wish to make us not know ourselves, but have only succeeded in strengthening our resolve. I will not aid you because this quest of yours will not benefit the people, only make them grow in their hatred. Leave" He spoke, a strange sense of anger in his voice. _

"_So, the great and powerful Dakkon is truly a coward? You would shy away from true honor and glory using your people as a shield? Is this what you all come to follow and respect so greatly, the words of a weakling?" He spoke, looking around. The ground seemed to shudder again, causing Annah to start thinking quickly. If he truly destroyed the monastery by causing doubt and weakness in everyone's minds, that would definitely not aid in their quest, not a single bit. Dakkon remained resolute in his stance though._

"_True glory and honor does not come from fighting that which doesn't exist but in nurturing those that will come after us. More good will be done here then on your fools quest. Leave" he spoke a second time, his words stronger and seemed to have quenched the doubt in all the minds that were around, causing Kasadin's arrogant and cocky attitude to falter. It was at this point that Annah suddenly remembered something she could use._

"_Wait a moment Dakkon, I got something ye may listen to, and it be only to you" She spoke, speaking out in a final appeal to him. Dakkon eyed her intensely, as if looking for any sign of deception before he spoke._

"_Very well then Annah, you may speak this one final time before I ask you all to leave for the last time" he spoke. Annah gathered her breath and prepared her words carefully._

"_Dakkon, we traveled together through pretty near everything, haven't we? When I first laid eyes on ye, I thought ye some doddering old fool, almost as bad as old stutter crutch was" she began, referring to her deceased father._

"_But…after I be seeing your own skills in action, I knew ye to be a man of great action, not some barmy old berk with a shiny blade. I couldn't believe ye would travel with us all over the spire the way ye did and beyond, and then I find out ye owed Him some debt or other. Even when ye left, I still don't be knowin what happened…till we found this" she said, holding up the journal she possessed. The moment Dakkon's eyes beheld it, his blade rippled and seemed to smooth around the edges, as if he were in remembrance._

"_That's right, it be his old journal, with everything he ever wrote. He had many things to say, including about ye…it was then I learned why ye truly followed him the way ye did" she said, looking down and away, almost as if she were shamed._

"_If you know the truth…then why would you come asking me to put myself in chains again?" he spoke slowly._

"_Because I knew him, he would never have made ye follow through with such a evil thing as that! He strove to regain himself, not only for himself, but for ye as well!" she spoke out. Looking at Dakkon, Annah could see the sadness in his eyes, his own desire to help she could feel was being held back by his duty to his people._

"_We be asking not as some grand labor Dakkon, but as ye friends. Please help us" she asked one final time. The whole hall was silent at the end of her words for a long minute as he considered her words carefully. Suddenly, it wasn't Dakkon who spoke next at all, but Nordom, walking forward, his eyes clicking and contracting and expanding the whole time._

"_Attention: Dakkon. Nordom has relevant information on this subject. Would you like me to play audio file?" Nordom spoke. Dakkon was silent before speaking next._

"_Very well Nordom, you may" he said, setting the rogue modron into a frenzy of whirs and clicks as his face went blank for a moment before seeming to come from his mouth spoke a voice that caused Annah's heart to leap into her throat, the voice of Him._

"_Day thirty six after awakening in the mortuary. I have discovered something that chills me to my very core. Dakkon, one who I counted as an ally, only follows me because my past life forced him to obey. Every day I am reminded of the cruelty my past lives have inflicted on others, all in this journey of self discovery that may or may not have an end in sight. Every day I strive to right the wrongs I have committed in the past, but when I look at those around me, I still see my sins as plain as day" His voice spoke from Nordoms mouth. Dakkon watched with rapt attention, his eyes fixated on Nordom._

"_Dakkon, if you ever read this, I want you to know I never meant to cause you this grief. I have always considered you a wise and noble teacher, a valiant warrior, and a good friend. I hope that I can release you from this torment you suffer by my hands" Nordom finished. The halls were quiet as Dakkon seemed to take in everything he just heard._

"_My…choice remains the same. I will not aid this foolish quest to slay a legend" he spoke, almost causing Annah to burst in rage at him. How could he ignore what he just heard?! He gave himself to the hells to also save Dakkon from the debt he forced on him, how could he be so-_

"_But…I will help you in saving my friend, a friend to the people" he spoke, causing Annah's rage to subside in a heart beat._

"_Your path…is mine" he spoke to Annah in barely above a whisper before he left the main hall to prepare she assumed. _

"_Geez, where have I heard that before?" Morte joked sarcastically._

"_Shut ye trap skull!" Annah hissed out to him before advancing right up on Nordom, grabbing him by the square edges of his head, causing Optix to whir and spin frantically at the sudden movement._

"_Where did ye get that!? Have ye had that inside this whole time?!" she practically howled at Nordom who stared at her in his usual expressionless face._

"_Response: Nordom retained content of previous leaders journal inside memory. Voice reconstructed to match previous leaders to fit with journal entry recorded to match on 99.994 percent accuracy……Nordom queries did he do well?" he asked. Annah couldn't tell if she wanted to hug the thing or break it, so she settled and releasing it and nodding._

"_Aye, ye did well enough…for a cog box" she added, feeling her spirit up. _

_Authors notes:_

_No I am not stopping the series, but I had a broken arm and a severe case of depression. Everything's fine now, and now with the chapter proof read and ready for posting, I'm back on track. Won't lie, had to do some rereading of the other chapters to get back in the mood and the right mindset, but I think it went well. Dakkon however, was a challenge. He was always one of my most respected idols growing up, and yes, I mean that, I was such a nerd, but he was always impressive in his ways and attitude to me. I wanted to portray him as closely as possible to the game but getting into his mindset of true wisdom through age is hard as hell when I'm as young as I am. I hope I did him justice in this._

_Anyway, please review, good or bad. Try to avoid any other accidents from keeping me writing._

_-Jalein Foxkin_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter Nine**_

_Walking amidst the army of the living and the damned souls, Jales searched with passion and vigor for the source of his mistresses desires. Had he been told months ago, even a moment before signing that slip of paper from that mysterious man in black that he would be fighting in the foulest of all the hells, being led to salvation and any hope of survival by an abyssal temptress of all things, he would have laughed in the tellers face. However, after signing in the petition paper in his dirt poor village for his family to receive a hundred gold coins, more then enough to live comfortably for three seasons, he found himself whisked away to the heart of the vilest and most despicable place to ever exist. If not for mistress Grace, plucking him up almost the moment he arrived, he would be sure he would be dead a hundred times right now. He actually mistook her for an angel come to lift him up from the nightmare, till she sadly informed him she did not come from above, but below. This however didn't dampen his fervor to find her one desire, the whole reason she was apparently here when she could be anywhere else in the planes, a scarred man with tattoos' all over his body._

_She gave an incredibly vivid description of him, complete with a rough sketch and list of possible places he could be. He was a male of the human race, thirties in appearance with a pallid grey flesh tone. He was a caster of spells, a mage of remarkable talent, and he was an incredible leader, one that would shine like a beacon to all who beheld him. Jales always doubted he would be quite so splendid, after all most would die to receive even a tenth of the praise and respect she gave this man, but he searched none the less. He checked where the mages all seemed to congregate, dodging spells and curses when the urge struck many of the cruel bastards. He checked where all the men would go as they gambled and drank and even had their way with some of the less then fortunate women who were unlucky enough to compromise this army. He even searched the tattoo tents hoping to catch sight of a man with the description. All of this was to no avail as he searched, but what was worse was now, he was alone. No longer did he have his fellow good souls to consort with, to talk to and fro to keep each others spirits up. He was the soul survivor of that wretched encounter, save for mistress Grace. _

_The most recent layer of hell the army he was traversing in was known only as the famished land. The earth he stood on was a dirty rust color, and the very air seemed to soak up moisture like a dry rag. He would describe it closest to being a desert but even the desert had some life. There was nothing here, no plants, no bones, not even a wind to stir the air, just dust. The complete lack of anything made it traveling quick and swift, but then the soldiers began to realize the real danger, the lack of food or water. Soon, their growling stomachs would convince them they were starving and needed to eat something, anything to survive. They could fight it for a few days, but soon the hunger would overtake them and they would look around for anything that could be used for food and after seeing nothing in the barren landscape, they would turn to the only other thing around, each other. _

_Jales walked slowly along the outskirts of the army, keeping a safe distance from anyone as he brandished his green steel spear at anything that strayed too close. The smooth and lethal metal that compromised the head and body of the weapon shone with a slick and sickening sheen of pale green. The weapon itself almost seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if it also hungered to sink deep into the unwary flesh of some poor fool to walk by. This made holding the weapon extremely unsettling at first, but mistress Grace assured him it was vital to fighting the demons and devils of the hells so he stomached the wretched feeling he got from the thing._

_His own thoughts were soon disturbed when he saw several figures clustered around what looked to be a small hunched over figure. They were three men, all burly brutes with rotting teeth and reeking of sweat and urine._

"_What should we do with her? I bet we could eat her up before anyone was the wiser" one suggested. Looking past them, they didn't seem to notice he was even there as he looked at what they intended to eat. It was by far one of the most revolting looking things he had ever seen in his life. It was an old shriveled of woman with a dark blue skin that stood barely four and half feet tall, maybe five if she wasn't hunched over. Her teeth were sharp and she even possessed what looked to be tusks of all things jutting out from her lower jaw. Her hair was stringy and white, each barely even wanting to touch the other by how disgusted with the others they were, and her finger nails were like long hooks and he had no doubt in his mind they could cut through skin if she so chose to. Of all the things though were her eyes, an inky blackness that seemed to possess no pupils, that barely seemed to move, which seemed to see everything there was and still more._

"_Ugh, its damned ugly though. Can't we just eat something that doesn't look like the rear end of a horse?" another spoke. The last one, most likely the one in control, smacked the other with a large hand._

"_It doesn't matter what it looks like, its got meat on it, don't it? Lets gobble it up before anyone tries to take a piece themselves" he said as they turned to the woman again._

"_Well then little flesh things…what does it think it can do…due to one poor lonely woman?" she asked them, her voice scratchy and dry, almost making the air seem moist in comparison._

"_Shut yer yap woman. Its yer own damn fault for being out here all on your own" The leader said as he moved closer, arms pulling out a rusted dagger menacingly and purposefully. Jales didn't even have time to think before he sprung into action, plunging his spear deep inside the gut from behind the brute, spear head exploding outward in a gory spectacle as the man moaned his last, slumping over dead. The other two brutes turned and saw him, a look of nausea already creeping across his face as his pale skin seemed to spattered in the mans blood._

"_Leave that woman alone or I'll stab the both of you too!" He threatened, rather unconvincingly he surmised as they both barreled down on him. The first swung with his fist in a wide arc that he was able to avoid and lunge again with his spear, impaling the mans arm as the sound of bone being broken met his ears as the spear pushed through like a wet sheet of paper, but the second saw his chance and punched him straight in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling, loosing his grip on his spear. He choked and hacked as he tried to suck in air, but found a strong hand grab him by his blonde hair and pull him into the air, letting him dangle. It was then he saw that they were even more fetid and putrid up close then they were from a distance, their stinking breath and dried and caked on blood all over their bodies._

"_You just volunteered to be the appetizer little one. Time to-" he started to say when there was a sudden cracking sound from beneath him. Looking under, he saw a tiny seed with sharp barbs begin springing to life and wrapping all around the mans lower body. Letting go of Jales, the man tried grabbing and pulling away the twisting and growing mass of plant life that was quickly making its way up his large body, but all he succeeded in doing was bloodying his hands as he grabbed at the thorny protrusions. Jales felt one climb up around his body, but seeing as how the other was being torn to pieces at his own struggling, he kept perfectly still. Looking about, he saw the other man was already dead, a plant grown all around him and apparently contracted inward toward the prisoner encased within. Suddenly the plants around him and the other man stopped growing once they were up to his neck. The other man was thrashing about violently, only serving to worsen his injuries. It was at this point that suddenly he heard something, a soft and melodious humming. Suddenly, the plant around the man only constricted and the spines pierced him all the way through, stabbed to death by thousands of pins, a gruesome and horrible way to die Jales would think._

"_Now that they have been dealt with…width…what to do with this pretty little thing" the old crone said, taking the discarded green steel spear in her talon hands and walking closer to him. Jales could feel his voice catch in his throat as he watched as the woman began to circle him. She was the predator and he was her prey and she knew it._

"_Whats a matter, hmmm? Is you're a voice likened to a puzzle box, needs a tinkering to get affixed?" she says, reaching a finger to stroke the veins of his neck lightly, drawing a thin red line of blood from him._

"_I…I'm looking for someone" he says, not sure what to tell her to get her to stop. The woman seemed encouraged by his fear and stopped tracing the skin of his neck to look up into his eyes._

"_We are all…all…awl a looking for someone. Who is it you a seek?" She asked. Gulping back, he tried to force his voice to the surface again, barely mustering a squeak._

"_He's…a man covered in scars and tattoos, looks to be in his thirties, grayish skin…" he starts to say when the woman snapped her head to him and finished with the one thing he never expected to hear from her._

"_And he a doesn't know his name?" she asked, her full attention on him. The weight of her gaze felt like maggots were eating out his muscles as he wanted to collapse._

"_y…yes, that was another thing mistress Grace told me to look for" he said, barely controlling his shaking legs. With a clacking of her clawed fingers and another wave of humming, the plant receded and retracted back into the seedling it was as she picked it up and replaced it in her pouch._

"_We be a looking for the same man. Take me to…too…two your mistress" she commanded. Nodding his head to her, he began to turn when her hooked hands grabbed him by the wrists, digging in slightly._

"_Perhaps first…thirst you would like a boon pretty pretty thing" she said and cackled wickedly, sending cold shivers all the way up Jales spine._

**Authors Notes**

Well, I'm not sure of the quality of this chapter personally. I thought it was appropriate but for some odd reason, the voice for Ravel, and yes, any fan of the game series should have guessed it was Ravel, seems off to me. I think I got her mannerisms right, but I don't know. I don't expect a glowing review on this one, I don't why but my chapters centered on Fall-From-Grace always seem to be lack luster.

In the way of personal life, going to Katsucon this valentines day. Wish I still had my gf, but she's apparently happy with a guy who treats her like trash, so I'll keep my opinion to myself on that. Well, enjoy, review, and look forward to some more back history next chapter.


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